Taken
by xkohleyesx
Summary: Jethro, I need your help. Please.” The horrifyingly familiar voice pleaded with fear. “There’s someone here. In my house. I don’t know who they are, or what they want, but, Jethro… I think they’re after me…" - Gibbs must act quickly or risk losing another


[[ Yep, I'm doing it. I'm posting a story that isn't complete after I practically promised myself that I wouldn't... Oh, well. I'm really interested to see what you guys think of this story... Well, enjoy. Hope you like it! ]]

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The cell phone rang for a fifth time, buzzing loudly in time with the tone.

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs grumbled angrily as he rolled to his side, facing the nightstand and the horrible noise atop it. Glancing at the glaring lights of the clock – 0321 – Gibbs scrubbed a hand across his face, at the same time, groaning himself out of his sleep-induced stupor.

You know, sometimes he hated rule #3. Never being unreachable was excellent advice when the calls came at a decent, reasonable hour. But after two weeks on a difficult case, twenty minutes of chasing down a culprit, on foot, three hours of interrogation, four and a half hours of paperwork accompanying said case, and six hours finishing off his boat (and a bottle of whiskey), finally reaching his bed only an hour previous, Gibbs was pretty much ready to throw the rule out the window.

Along with the damned annoying phone still ringing beside him.

Gibbs reached for the offending object. Holding the phone at arm's length, he attempted to check the ID, but grumbled at the effort in futility when he didn't recognize the numbers splayed across the glowing screen.

Flipping the cover open, Gibbs brought the blessedly silent phone to his ear. He flinched slightly, feeling the raging headache reappear with force as the quiet of the room pressed in on him.

"Gibbs." He barked angrily, readying himself to verbally rip whoever was calling at such an ungodly hour a new one.

The line was silent. For a moment, Gibbs waited, listening intently for any sound. Slowly, his eyes slipped shut and his mind began to drift back to dreamland. With the smallest of sighs, Gibbs pulled the phone from his ear and began to flip is shut.

"Jethro."

Gibbs sat up, suddenly sobered and fully awake, the phone quickly pressed back to his ear as he listened to the panic-coated voice echoing through the earpiece.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Gibbs asked urgently, feeling his stomach plummet.

"Jethro, I need your help. Please." The horrifyingly familiar voice pleaded with fear. "There's someone here. In my house. I don't know who they are, or what they want, but, Jethro… I think they're after me…"

Gibbs felt his breathing catch.

"What? How do you know that??"

"Oh, God, I can hear them on the stairs…" The woman's voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible to Gibbs.

"Hide! Get in a closet! Lock yourself in the bathroom!" Gibbs was frantic, heartsickenly unable to act. "Call the police and get your gun!"

"It's too late for that and my weapon is gone…" The woman choked through her sobs, the slightest bit of hopelessness lacing her voice.

A long pause followed before she spoke again, slowly and clearly. This time, Gibbs noted, her voice was calmer, firmer, with an air of acceptance and determination.

"Listen. Jethro, I'm going to tell you everything I can about these people, so pay attention. " She spoke bit by bit, making sure he heard each word she said. And it's implications. "And I'm going to try to leave some traces-"

Gibbs stomach lurched with realization of her plan.

"NO! Get out of the house!" He yelled insistently into the phone, leaping from his bed in search of a pen all the same, tossing his sheets haphazardly in a heap to the floor. "You get out of there! Or DO something! Anything! Something other than just give up!

"You hear me, Colonel?!" Gibbs was shouting now. He could hear the uncontrolled hysteria leaking into his words as he continued his frenzied search. Not another. He could not handle losing another. "I'm ordering you not to give up!"

The woman laughed tightly at the thought. "Wrong branch, Gunny."

She was silent for a moment, likely listening for the nearing footsteps of the intruders. Gibbs strained his hearing also, hoping to hear what had seized her attention, but was unable to catch any sound over her quick breaths, frantically in sync with his own.

"There's nothing you can do now. " She insisted urgently. "Just get them, Jethro. Use your skills and your team and find them…"

She paused noticeably.

"And me." She added reluctantly.

Gibbs stilled then, paper in one hand, pen in the other, the phone pressed against his shoulder, keeping it to his ear.

"I'm sorry, Jethro…" Gibbs heard the woman sob, quickly followed by the sounds of the phone being set on something hard.

"Wait! Don't do this!" He bellowed into the phone, though he knew she wasn't there anymore to answer.

In horrifying silence, Gibbs waited.

Several moments passed and the lump in Gibbs throat began to loosen. She had been wrong. He was sure of it. Probably just some punk kids hoping to vandalize someone's house but had freaked out with the discovery that someone was home.

She was going to be fine.

And then he heard the first scream as the sound of splintering wood cut through the phone.

Gibbs listened as one… two… three more shots were fired, as glass shattered, and something heavy and metallic slid across hardwood floor accompanied by a masculine grunt of pain. He heard, with the slightest bit of pride warming his heart, as she fought back for nearly ten minutes, calling out the descriptions of the attackers as she did so. Gibbs frantically scribbled down the details- height, weight, hair, skin color- everything she yelled, he wrote down.

A fifth shot was fired then, causing Gibbs' pen to shoot across the page in a deep, black line.

He heard the sickening thud as something heavy hit the ground and knew in his gut the fight was over.

Hoping with everything he had that his gut was wrong, Gibbs spoke into the mouthpiece of the phone, calling the woman's name, yelling for her to answer.

The sounds of the phone being removed from the surface it sat on filled Gibbs' ear.

A long pause followed, neither person on either end willing to break the silence and speak first.

Finally, Gibbs spoke her name, softly, questioningly, feeling the tight grip of dread around his heart once more.

"I've got her." A deep voice scratched through the connection.

The contents of Gibbs' stomach dropped to his feet.

"If you hurt her," he growled into the phone. "I'll hunt you down and when I found you, I'll personally make sure you never see the inside of a jail cell. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The deep voice merely laughed, sending chills down Gibbs' spine.

Suddenly the line was dead. No dial tone. No static. Just the oppressive silence of the absence of her voice.

"Hollis."

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[[ So when I started writing, I definitely meant for the story to go in a different direction. But, OF COURSE, the little plot bunny decided to run down another path. *shrug* So I'm going with it. And yes, I'm very aware of the first chapter's similarity to the movie 'Taken' and, admittedly, I was drawing on the feelings from the parallel scene in the film when I was writing. However, I assure you that the similarities will end after the phone call. This _is_ an NCIS story, after all :)

Also, if it isn't apparent, this is meant as a gibbs/lt. colonel mann story (because I love the pairing and fanfiction on it seems to be lacking).

So... Is it worth continuing...? ]]


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